


Cat's in the Cradle

by AntisocialCasualty



Category: Onward (2020)
Genre: AU in which Barley is Ian's dad, Angst, Coming of Age, Death in Childbirth, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Original Character Death(s), Single Parent Barley Lightfoot, and after Ian's mom dies in childbirth Barley takes raising him into his own hands, and give Ian the fatherly love he never really got to experience, because he wants to make Wilden proud, like literally his dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23603506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntisocialCasualty/pseuds/AntisocialCasualty
Summary: Barley wasn’t planning on becoming a dad straight out of high school. Let alone becoming a single dad. But ever since he was young, he promised to himself he was going to make his dad proud, and good God he would keep that promise.
Relationships: Barley Lightfoot/Original Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Get out the tissues for this one. You're going to need them. I've been thinking about that "I never had a dad, but I always had you" scene ever since I watched Onward and well... yeah. This AU was bound to happen at some point.
> 
> This is absolutely NOT a daddy kink fanfic so please don't even think that. 
> 
> If you're triggered in anyway by death in childbirth, then please do not read.

It was nearly halfway through Barley’s senior year when his girlfriend, Arabella, told him she was pregnant. Of course, the moment he found out was one of shock, anxiety, and uncertainty. The two of them weren’t even out of high school yet; not only that, but neither of them had been accepted to college yet. Neither of them even had jobs! How would they be able to support a family?

For the first few months after the revelation, the two of them mulled over options. Arabella could get an abortion; right? No, she didn’t want to, for her own personal reasons. Well at the end of the day, it was her choice.

Maybe they could put the baby up for adoption? No… that wouldn’t work. What if he ended up in an abusive home, or worse, wasn’t adopted at all? There were too many flaws within the adoption system for both of them to be comfortable with that option.

One night three months after Barley found out his girlfriend was pregnant, he sat quietly in his room, playing Drive by Incubus on a low volume just so the room wouldn’t be completely consumed by silence. He took a glance over at the wall to his right, where numerous photographs from his childhood were pinned. Those photos were of him and his father. Of course, before…. That happened.

The 18-year old elf huffed to himself and got to his feet, walking over to the wall. He stared at the pictures more intently as his mind began to come alive with memories. The memories he could say he had of his dad were very few; but nonetheless, bittersweet. Especially the last memory.

There wasn’t a day when his heart didn’t ache at the thought of that last memory.

Barley knew all too well what it was like to grow up without a dad. His mom had had various dating partners here and there, but none of them ever filled the void in his heart that Wilden had left when he passed. There were so many things he could’ve learned, that he had to teach himself. There were so many more memories that could’ve been made, that would’ve lasted with him for a lifetime.

And that was why, Barley swore to himself that night, that he was going to be the best damn father in the entire universe. He was going to raise this child, and he was going to make sure this child had everything that he didn’t get to have.

“I’m going to make you proud, dad,” Barley whispered as he ran a finger over the picture’s paper texture. “I swear.”

* * *

The next six months were a contrast to the first three’s uncertainty. Barley had told Laurel over dinner one night, and while at first she was flabbergasted, but her mood quickly changed to be supportive and encouraging. She knew how much Barley wanted to be able to give this baby everything he didn’t get to have. She would help raise the baby as much as she could; being a grandmother at such a young age definitely wasn’t something she expected, but it was something she gradually started to look forward to. She did, however, expect Barley to find a steady job in order to provide for his little family.

After the two elves graduated, they began to focus their attention on preparing for the baby’s arrival. Barley found a job working as a mechanic, which wasn’t extraordinary, but income is income. Arabella had intended to go to university on an offer to play volleyball, but she had decided to take a gap year in order to be there for her child. The two discussed getting an apartment together once both of them could afford it. They even discussed marriage, somewhere down the line.

They found out the gender of their child that summer. It was a boy. The expecting parents were somewhat indecisive when it came to picking names, but eventually both of them agreed on Iandore - Ian for short. They spent an ample amount of time picking out baby clothes, toys, and decorations for the nursery. Whenever Barley had some time off from work, he would spend it painting the walls of the nursery with pictures of dragons, wizards, knights, and the like. That was starting to become one of his newfound passions. Magic and quests provided the expectant father with a sense of escapism from the many demands and responsibilities that loomed over his shoulders.

It was a cloudy day in September when Arabella went into labor.

Barley told his boss he had to leave immediately as soon as he received her frantic voicemail. As he hurried into his van to start its engine, he muttered to himself, “How is she in labor already?!? Her due date is 2 weeks from now!” With his heartbeat pounding so hard he could feel it in his head, Barley started the battered van’s engine and began to speed to the hospital. Although the hospital was only 10 minutes away, it felt as if an entire year passed between the time he pulled off from the auto shop to the moment he pulled up at the hospital.

The stocky elf caused many heads to turn in his direction as he dashed into the waiting room, calling out for directions to the labor and delivery ward in between panicked breaths. A kind-hearted centaur nurse informed him, down the hall and to the right. Barley really wished he could’ve thanked him more, but he had no time to lose. Three begrudgingly long minutes later, he reached the labor and delivery ward’s waiting’s room.

“Patient name?” The peckish-looking ogre at the desk asked as soon as Barley walked in.

“A-Arabella Snowflower.” Barley panted, trying to collect his breath.

The receptionist typed in her computer for a few moments and sighed, looking up at Barley once again. “Are you the baby’s father?”

Barley nodded his head, “Y-yes, she went into labor 2 weeks early and… and I just need to be there for her, and my son, right now.”

The ogre sighed, “I’m sorry sir, I completely understand your franticness but I’m afraid I can’t let you into the delivery room at the moment.”

Barley felt like he was experiencing some form of extreme vertigo. “WHAT!?!?” He gasped, the look on his face turning even more panic-stricken. “But I-I’m the.. baby’s father! Sh-she’s my girlfriend! Why can’t I be with her?!?”

The ogre shook her head, a deadpan expression on her face. “Sir, I was told I can’t. I’m not a nurse, or a doctor. I’m just the receptionist.”

The elf’s look turned desperate. “Please, just tell me why? I-Is everything okay? Th-there wasn’t a problem with the delivery, was there?”

The ogre didn’t even make eye contact as she continued to type on her computer. “Sir, I have no other information to give you at this time. You will need to have a seat and wait for a doctor or nurse to come through the doors with more information.”

Barley was proud of himself for having the restraint not to completely lose it. It wasn’t the receptionist’s fault, but she could’ve at least been somewhat more empathetic. His entire body shuddered as he took a seat, blankly looking at the tiled floor. What was going on? Why wasn’t he being allowed by Arabella’s side? She had told him so many times she couldn’t wait for him to be by her side when she gave birth. Something wasn’t right. That was the only thing he knew of.

After about 20 agonizing minutes passed, Barley pulled out his phone and called Laurel.

“Mom, I need you to come to the hospital right now.”

“Barley, is everything okay?”

“N-no… it’s Arabella, she went into labor, and they’re not even letting me into the delivery room.”

“What?!? How come??”

“I don’t know! All the receptionist said was they couldn’t let me back there! She didn’t even give a reason… I-I have no idea what’s going on or why they won’t let me be with her…”

“I’m just as confused as you are… Barley, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just hang on, alright?”

Barley nodded, told his mom he loved her, and hung up. He hung his head and ran his large fingers through his shaggy hair. He knew that this day would be nerve-wracking, however, he never expected it to take a turn in this direction. What reason could there possibly be for him not being allowed to watch his son come into the world?

45 minutes passed before Laurel walked into the ward. She briefly spoke to the receptionist and took a seat besides Barley, who jumped a bit upon feeling her touch his neck. He had spent the past near-hour almost zoned out.

“Hey, son,” the short-haired woman sighed and wrapped her much larger son in an embrace. “Have you heard anything else?”

The 18-year-old elf quietly shook his head, not even making eye contact. Laurel knew better than anyone that when Barley acted like this, it meant that he was extremely upset.

Laurel heaved a deep sigh, rubbing the back of her son’s neck. “I know this is a lot easier said than done, but just try to stay optimistic, okay? Maybe there’s some kind of systematic error. Just try to think positive.”

Five eerily silent hours later, a cyclops nurse walked into the waiting room. “Barley Lightfoot?” She called out.

Barley immediately stood up and raised his hand, the same panicky expression present on his face.

The cyclops walked over and sighed. The expression on her face could only be described as grim. “Please come with me.”

The cyclops lead Barley down toward the end of the hall. Barley didn’t take a single glance up the entire time. What he had known from the start was now reality; something wasn’t right. He didn’t know if it was Arabella, or little Ian, but there was something wrong.

The cyclops heaved a deep sigh and looked Barley in the eyes, “I have both good news and bad news,” she began. Barley was about to open his mouth to speak, but she began talking before he could.

“The good news is, your baby boy is healthy. He’s an 8 on the APGAR scale, and weighs 6 pounds, and one ounce.”

Barley wished he had been able to fully rejoice - a faint smile grew across his face, but… the nurse still hadn’t mentioned Arabella. “Wh-what about Arabella? Is everything okay?”

The nurse exhaled sharply and took Barley’s hands in hers, “I’m so sorry, but… she didn’t make it. She suffered an amniotic fluid embolism during labor, and passed shortly after the delivery. Our entire team sends our deepest condolences for your loss.”

It was in that moment, that Barley’s worst nightmare had come true.

Not only had he lost his father, but now the mother of his child.

“No….. no no no…… NO!!!!!!!” Barley choked out at first, but then agonizingly wailed. He was sure the entire hospital was able to hear his desperate sobs. What he had feared in his gut was now his reality.

The nurse attempted to embrace the elf, but felt him shove her away. “No… this has to be a lie! Tell me it’s not true!”

It was true.

“Why didn’t you try to save her!?!? You could’ve done something about it! But you didn’t! And now she’s…. Dead!”

The cyclops frowned deeply. “Mr. Lightfoot, please understand that we tried our best. Our entire team consists of highly skilled nurses and doctors, but cases like this are extremely rare. We, too, are devastated. I just hope you understand that we tried.”

At that moment, Laurel came bounding down the hall upon faintly hearing the sobbing sound. Her heart sunk as soon as she saw the nurse consoling her hysterical son; what she had hoped wasn’t the case, but had a bad feeling was, was now reality. She immediately ran to Barley and hugged him tighter than she had ever hugged him before.

About 10 minutes passed before Barley, through choked sobs, sighed, “C-Can I at least… see my son?”

The nurse nodded, “Of course you can, whenever you feel ready, I’ll lead the way.”

Barley took a few minutes to collect himself, just letting all the tears and sobs flow out. Why did his life have to be this way? He already had to endure the loss of his father before he even started kindergarten. He didn’t even get to say goodbye to his father. Now, the mother of his child, the love of his life, was gone, and once again, he didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Once he felt somewhat stable, he nodded to the nurse as a sign that he was ready. The cyclops led Barley and Laurel into the nursery; thankfully, little Ian was healthy enough to where he didn’t have to stay in the NICU like most other premature births. Laurel immediately spotted a tiny little blue elf on the far right, in the second row. The sight of the helpless infant crying and kicking his tiny limbs wildly caused both the baby’s father and grandmother’s hearts to lurch. Of course he was crying because well, that’s what newborns do, but the context of the situation made it a harrowing sight.

Just the sight alone caused tears to begin to flow down Barley’s cheeks again as he walked over to the bin, looking down at his son. His heart skipped a beat when an epiphany hit him; his son bore a striking resemblance to Wilden. His grandfather. They had the same nose, same ears, same facial structure…. Same pretty much everything. Barley could see traces of Arabella in the baby’s dark amber eyes, and even a little bit of himself in the baby’s messy cobalt blue hair.

But more than anything, he saw Wilden. Barley wasn’t very into the concept of reincarnation, but wow…. It was just astonishing how much little Ian resembled his grandfather.

Ever so slowly, with his muscled arms softly shaking, Barley reached out and very gently picked up the baby elf. Little Ian, who was clad in a bright blue onesie that almost exactly matched his skin tone, immediately shushed his crying and curiously looked up at Barley.

“H-hey, little guy.” Barley softly whispered with a shaky voice. “I’m your… daddy.” He lowered his face closer to that of his infant son’s, who continued to gaze up in curiosity. Ian raised a weak little hand up in an attempt to grab onto Barley’s tear-stained cheek, which elicited a chuckle from Laurel. “You know, you did the same exact thing with Wilden when we had you…”

Barley looked up with a faint smile, but the mention of Wilden caused yet another surge of pain to shoot through his heat. _Dad, if you’re seeing this…. I hope you’re proud of me. Please tell Arabella, if she’s with you, that I’m going to give this baby my all._

Ian was so small. Just so small, that Barley’s hand alone was almost nearly the size of his entire body. The infant elf softly cooed as he reached out for his father’s large finger, trying to grasp onto it. Barley chuckled softly, looking over to Laurel, then looking back at Ian. “You wanna meet your grandma?” He asked, causing the little baby to weakly turn his head over to Laurel.

“I think that’s a yes,” Laurel smiled as Barley gently handed him over to her. As Barley watched his mother hold Ian and softly coo to him, the larger elf couldn’t help but think to himself, _That should be Arabella. The love of my life, my wife-to-be, should be holding him._ He knew Laurel would be a fantastic grandma, as she would be the one to care for Ian whenever Barley was at work, but… ugh.

Laurel looked up from her cooing over at Barley, “What did you say you were going to name him again?”

Barley huffed, “Me and Arabella wanted to name him Iandore. Ian for short. It was her idea.”

The elder elf smiled, “Ian…dore. It’s perfect.” She looked down at the baby once more and handed him over back to his father.

The cyclops nurse walked over to the three elves, a clipboard in her hand. “How’s everything going over here?” Laurel smiled at the nurse, “He’s a very friendly baby. A little quiet, but, I suppose that’s not a bad thing.” She glanced over to see Barley cradling his newborn son in his large arms.

The nurse walked over to Barley, “Mr. Lightfoot, I never formally got to congratulate you on the new arrival to your family.”

The larger elf looked up, “Thank you so much…. I know what I’m going to call him, by the way.”

The cyclops’ eyebrow raised, “Ah, really? What’s his name?”

“Iandore. Iandore Wilde Lightfoot.”

Laurel put her hand over her heart upon hearing Barley’s choice for a middle name. Come to think of it, she did see a lot of her deceased husband in little Ian.

As little Ian closed his eyes and snuggled into his father’s broad chest, Barley whispered softly into his ear,

“I will always protect you, little Ian. Always.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After coping with the fallout from Arabella's untimely passing, Barley begins to acclimate himself to parenthood. Ian starts giving him more of a hard time than he thought...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is gonna be a little short. My ideas kinda ran dry by the end, stupid brain. -_- 
> 
> But yeah, enjoy Barley trying to figure out what the hell he's supposed to do as a new parent. Aw Ian, you fussy little thing you.

The first few weeks of Ian’s life should’ve been an extremely happy occasion. Rather than the idealistic dream come true Barley had pictured in his head of new parenthood, it could only be described as depressing and tiring. First, there was the administrative work. Barley had to fill out numerous paperwork, including the birth certificate and signing over of parental rights. It wasn’t a horribly complicated process, but the last thing the new father wanted to do was sign paper after paper after paper.

Then, there was the gathering of all the needed necessities. Thankfully, Laurel took care of that by making runs to the local baby supplies store. She picked up formulas, bottles, a carrier, and of course, diapers. So many diapers. Laurel hadn’t changed a diaper in well over 15 years, but she was well-versed enough to remember what she was doing. Barley on the other hand… wasn’t exactly looking forward to diaper duty. But it could be managed. Anything could, for his little boy.

Ian got to come home 2 days later. Thankfully, he hadn’t been that fussy. In fact, he wasn’t really that fussy of a baby at all. “I guess the apple falls far from the tree on that one,” Laurel had joked, which managed to put a smile on Barley’s face. The larger elf’s boisterous personality had been evident from the moment he was born. He couldn’t help but think to himself, that his son had inherited that trait from Arabella. Maybe he would grow up to be quiet and unassuming, yet strong in his beliefs, just like his mother…

Ugh. Barley really didn’t want to continue thinking about it, but the memories of his lost love continued to hang over him like a dark storm cloud.

It didn’t really help that most of the messages he received weren’t even congratulating him on the arrival of his son, but sending their deepest condolences for Arabella’s loss. A few of Barley’s friends from high school stopped by the Lightfoot home to give the new father some more baby supplies, and take a look at the new arrival. Most of the time, Ian would be fast asleep in his crib, but when he was awake he would simply give those who came to see him a wide-eye look and a coo.

Arabella’s memorial service was the following week. Numerous friends and family members gave their eulogies, remembering Arabella as a kind, caring girl who was super excited to be a mother. Barley went last, and he ended up breaking down towards the end. He had thought about what he was going to say for weeks, but couldn’t hold it together in the moment. After the service was over, Arabella’s parents consoled him.

“Arabella loved you with all her heart,” her father told Barley. “She was really looking forward to raising a family with you. I know what it’s like to deal with the pressures of being a single parent. Maybe not under the same circumstances as you, but it’s extremely demanding.” The tall, greying elf man looked at Barley in the eyes. “However, Arabella would want you to keep going. She would want you to continue to give you and her’s son everything. I know you were already going to love the kid with all your heart, but now, I need you to channel my daughter’s love as well. You need to show that baby not just fatherly love… but motherly love, too.”

And that’s exactly what Barley swore to do.

The first thing that Barley learned about parenthood - first impressions can be deceiving. Although Ian had been soft-spoken in his first week, that quickly took a turn. At the beginning of the second week, Barley was jostled awake by an ear-splitting wail coming from the nursery. Here we go, the 18 year old thought to himself as he hauled himself out of bed, rubbing his fingers over his eyes. He quietly stepped over to Ian’s crib and leaned a little over the railing.

“What troubles thee, o young warrior?” Barley cooed to his son, trying to add extra bass to his voice. Laurel had scolded him and told him to quit ‘talking to his son like that, or when he starts talking he’ll turn out like one of those renaissance fair dorks’, but it was a way for the elf to keep himself calm. That, and he wanted to introduce Ian to the whimsical concept of magic from a young age. His nursery wasn’t decorated with depictions of wizards and dragons from the olden days for nothing, after all.

Barley took a quick whiff of the air as Ian continued fussing; well, it didn’t reek like garbage about to be eaten by a unicorn, so that could only mean one thing…

“I see that the fearsome dragon known as Hunger is baring its teeth at you, little one! Fear not, for the great and mighty Dad has arrived to slay that dragon!”

Ian briefly stopped crying and looked up at Barley as to give a look that said ‘Are you serious?’, and then continued crying again.

Thank spirits Laurel had already prepared a dozen bottles, because Barley didn’t have a second clue on how to make a proper formula. He gently scooped Ian out of the crib and into his large, cushioning arms and carried him downstairs to the kitchen. While keeping a firm arm around his son, Barley opened the fridge and grabbed one of the Similac-filled bottles. The stocky elf then took it over to the sink and ran it under warm water for a minutes, checked the temperature on his wrist to make sure it wasn’t too hot or cold, then situated himself with Ian on one of the chairs near the dining table.

It took Ian a few minutes to place his mouth on the bottle’s nipple, but soon enough he was sucking away. Barley looked down at his son and whispered, “That’s better, hmm, my little warrior?” When Ian was done, the fussing ceased as he cooed up at his father once more.

“Oops. Almost forgot.” Barley chucked to himself as he remembered one of the key tips he read from one of those baby websites; always burp the baby after feeding. If he didn’t, then his little warrior would be sure to continue fussing - probably even louder. Gently turning Ian over his shoulder, Barley began to lightly pat the left side of his back. It took a few minutes for the little elf to muster up a burp, eliciting a laugh from his father.

“Back to bed you go, Iandore.” Barley cooed as he walked back up the stairs, setting his infant son back down in his crib. It didn’t take long for Ian to drift back to sleep, his father keeping a close eye on him the entire time. Barley softly smiled to himself as he took in the sight of his son; his very own creation, oh so tiny and helpless. Barley was sure this was far from the last time he would be woken up by the ear-grinding noise of his son’s fussing, but it was a challenge he was willing to face. It surely wouldn’t be any harder than the longest Quests of Yore campaign he had played.

Well, it might as well rival that.

The rest of the week, Barley probably got a combined total of 3 hours, 15 minutes of sleep. Ian had to be nocturnal, because that was clearly his favorite time to start fussing. Every time Barley thought he could finally settle down and get some rest, Ian would immediately start wailing. It seemed to be a pattern; first he was hungry, then he needed his diaper changed, then he was hungry again, then he had yet another messy diaper. To help him feel better, and bring him some laughter, Laurel would tell Barley that Ian’s bowels were nowhere near as active as his when he was a baby. If that was true, then I might as well have had dumptruck bowels…

One evening at the end of the week, Barley was sitting on the couch in the living room, trying to collect his thoughts for the first time in nearly 2 weeks. Ian was in his little bouncy seat, a gift from Barley’s friend Shrub. Clad in a red onesie that read (what else) ‘Daddy’s Little Warrior’, the baby elf was lightly kicking his tiny feet, reaching for the plastic star ornaments that hung from the seat’s handle. It was the first time the entire week that Ian wasn’t fussing or otherwise begging for his father’s attention, so Barley tried to take advantage of this grace period while it lasted.

Laurel then came walking into the living room. She wore a somewhat tired expression on her face herself. The shorter elf woman exhaled as she sat down next to her son, “You look like you’ve fought two hundred dragons and escaped three hundred gelatinous cubes.”

Barley scoffed lightly, rubbing in between his eyes. “I bet even that would be easier than what I’ve been through this past week,” the larger elf slumped back on the couch, his black Quest Master shirt riding up on his belly. “And to think this little ruffian made me believe he’d be a quiet baby.” He looked down at his son, who returned the glance longingly. Then, Ian attempted to bat his tiny hand over in Barley’s direction.

Laurel laughed, “I think he wants his daddy to hold him.” Barley gave a tired smirk, running a finger through his shaggy hair. “Daddy’s little warrior is clearly also daddy’s little boy.” The larger elf grinned and bent down to pick up his son, lifting him out of the bouncer and settling him onto his large belly.

Ian blinked his big amber eyes and quietly cooed, resting calmly on his dad’s stomach. Laurel put her hands over her heart and gasped, “Oh my goodness. Barley, hold that pose please!” Barley was initially confused, but then gave an exasperated laugh once she saw Laurel pull out her phone. The stocky elf gave a tired smile to the camera, putting a hand over his son’s back as the camera flashed.

Laurel gave a proud grandma smile, moving to post the picture to every single social media she had. “I’m getting that one printed for sure.”

Barley just smiled as he looked down at Ian, now fast asleep on top of his father’s belly. He’d even say he was sleeping more soundly there than he did in his crib. Ah, what a tender moment. Letting out a loud, but of course, not too loud yawn, Barley closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep as well.


End file.
